


Prolonged Exposure

by friendlyfuneral



Category: Bones (TV), Gossip Girl, Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Catholic, Catholic School, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Gay Male Character, Hollywood, Lesbian Character, Los Angeles, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Ouija, POV First Person, Roman Catholicism, Romance, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 05:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3598011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyfuneral/pseuds/friendlyfuneral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2014, and while her best friend, Brian Kinney, struggles to manage a relationship with his history teacher, Kira Ives' only escape from catholicism is the time they spend together in the streets of Hollywood on Fridays nights and daydreaming about the cute girl in her Chemistry class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exit Here for the Hollywood Sign

**Author's Note:**

> I have written this purely for my own enjoyment. This work is the result of mixing all of my favorite TV shows together. I've taken all my favorite plot lines and characters and woven them together with personal experiences to form a complex (but hopefully sensical) tapestry. Anything that can happen, does, because that's the fun of writing.
> 
> Kira is my character but I own none of the others.

_My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold. My angel is a centerfold._  
\- J. Geils Band “Centerfold”

 

 

6 days a week, I’m a good catholic girl. I keep my skirts long, I bow my head in prayer, I sing the gospel songs, I look to the statue of Mary with plastic tears frozen to her cheeks holding a big baby Jesus in her arms with pure reverence and respect.

 

Then there’s Friday- when I roll up my uniform skirt and we take the train somewhere that the stretches of our the catholic church can’t find us. Ten years ago, it would have been too dangerous for us to run through Hollywood. Now it’s just the right mix of thugs and tourists.

 

We walk past the giant public school with boys doing skate tricks on the steps, and teenage lovers kissing, and people gathered in large clusters in front of the diner, getting pancakes after school. We walk past the record store- grown ups who look like they belong in a decade long ago carrying big vinyl packages. Then the garden shop, a sliver of nature that’s like a breath of fresh air in the polluted city, the flowers the most fragrant they’ll be before the weather cools.  

 

The signs from from fast food restaurants light up neon colors on the backdrop of palm trees. We’ll run around the hollywood and highland center or go to a movie at El Capitan or watch tourists at the chinese theatre or walk all the way down to the 50’s style restaurant with the mini marilyn monroe museum or even get on the star tours. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re back at my house at the end of it, underneath the big quilt watching a movie.

 

Brian and I have been friends even before childhood or infancy. We’ve been friends since utero, when our mothers met at a neighborhood brunch in 1998.

 

These days, our mothers are neighborly, but they aren’t friends anymore. Brian sleeps at my house more often than not. It’s become a staple of our friendship. I have no idea if his parents even know where he is. My mom doesn’t question it, I think she knows more about what’s going on in Brian’s house than I do.

 

I stopped believing in God in 6th grade, when at 4 AM Brian came through my bedroom window with a bloody nose and a bruised face. I’m pretty sure he stopped believing in God a long time before that.

 

“In the name of the father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit…”

I cross myself and look over to him now. He rolls his eyes. High school started a month ago. Chemistry is my favorite class. Not because the subject interests me, but because Temperance is my desk partner.

 

Temperance thinks she knows everything. She corrects the teachers. Not a lot of people like her for that. But It makes me like her more. I live for the moments when she’s explaining a chart to me, and she leans over and her soft hair grazes my face. She says that she believes in God, but sometimes I’ll look up during a prayer and I’ll catch her eye, and I know she knows.

 

I also like chemistry because it’s when I can watch Blair and Serena doing something normal like taking notes. Blair and Serena are the most powerful girls at this school. I don’t know if I’m more intimidated because they’re sophomores or because they’re so au courant. They’re like two Greek Goddesses gracing us with their presence. But chemistry reminds me that they actually are human, even if none of the rest of the school can seem to remember that.

 

I daydream a lot about asking Temperance to come with us to hollywood one day after school. It’s never going to happen. She’s got her head in a thick book about science and mine is up, up in the clouds.

 

“I have had it-” Brian slams down his history textbook on our lunch table. “with boys.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see the day you’d get sick of cock,”

“No, I love cock. I hate boys. I mean, I really really hate them,”

“C’mon, you’ve never even tried one. How do you know you hate them all?” I scoff.

“I think I’m ready to try something more refined…”

“What, you mean like...an older man? Oh, Brian...”

“I’m going to fuck Mr. Anderson.”

“No, you’re not,”

“Watch me.”  

“Okay...Lolita.”

“Shut up.”

“Lolita, look, here comes Humbert Humbert,” I point when Mr. Anderson walks into the room.

“Oh, fuck you, Kira.”

 

I can tell he’s thinking about him the rest of the day. On the train I kick him with my saddle shoe. “Hey, you still thinking about Anderson?”

“He’s not that old, you know.”

“He has a child.”

“An infant.”

“He has a wife, too.”

“I signed up for one-on-one tutoring.”

“But you’re good at history! Jesus, are you trying to turn your life into a full on porno?”

“You know what, if that happens, I’m not going to complain about it.”

“Guess who’s in my chem group.”

“No.”

“Brian! Guess!”

“Temperance Brennan.”

“I wish. Blair and Serena.”

“Shit.”

“Right?”

“Two for one. Don’t fuck this up, okay?”

I kick him again.

 

“Next stop is: North Hollywood.“

 

. . . . .

 

I agreed to meet Blair and Serena to work on the project that saturday. I brought the tri-fold board. I feel like hiding behind it after I ring Serena’s doorbell. Her house is a modern day castle and her mom answers the door wearing diamond earrings that glitter in the sunlight. I am riddled with jealousy. My shoes click on Serena’s shiny floor. She and Blair are lounging around in her bedroom.

 

“Kira, hi,” Serena greets me. Blair says hello with a smile, but I can tell that it’s not genuine. I quickly examine their outfits: Very cool. I feel almost lucky to be seeing them out of uniform, it’s some kind of privilege. “We wanted to wait till you got here before we started. You have the rubric, right?” I nod. We get set up on Serena’s floor and we create a mockup of what we want our project to look like while Blair keeps texting.

 

“Blair, would you mind participating, please?” Serena asks, soft and sweet.

“Yes.” She doesn’t move.

“Blair.”

“Yes, Serena, I’m just three texts away from a movie date, can you give me just a second?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

I cut letters out of construction paper.

“Blair!”

“What?”

“Can you atleast help Kira cut the letters? You’re doing nothing.”

“Yes, yes, don’t get yourself all worked up.”

 

Blair reluctantly sits next to me and starts cutting. We’re working in silence for about three minutes before Blair makes a comment:

“No offence, but the freshman are so annoying this year.” Serena gives her a look but she continues. “We could not have been that annoying. What’s the name of the girl who sits on your left in Chem?”

It takes a second for me to realize that Blair is speaking to me. “Temperance!” I blurt.

Blair rolls her eyes. “She thinks she knows everything. And the way she spe-”

“Okay, Blair, change the subject. What are you and Nate going to see?”

I’m thankful for Serena’s interruption. I’m not bold enough to get Blair to stop. I didn’t even know that Blair was dating Nate, and I’m intrigued.

“Ugh. He can’t even decide. We’ll probably see Plan 8.” She says with a hint of disgust.

“That’s a smart idea though.” I quip. “It’s cheesy, but it’s light hearted and will give you enough to complain about.” I don’t know where I came up with that. But Serena backs me up.

“She’s right.”

“Hmm.” Blair looks at me, just a split second with just a suggestion of fascination in her eye.  

 

. . . . .

 

Brian wakes me sunday morning by hitting my chest so when my eyes open I feel winded.

“What did you do that for, freak?” I cough

“You got mad at me when I slapped your face!” He scowls.

“That doesn’t mean slap me on another body part.”

“Quit bitching at look at this!” He flashes me his phone screen. It’s an email from Anderson.

“This is...an email about history tutoring...why are you showing me this…”

“He sent this to me 5 minutes ago.”

“And?”

“So I replied 3 minutes ago.”

“Brian...I…”

“He responded just now.”

“Ew, why is he emailing a student at 2 AM on a sunday?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” he slaps me on the shoulder.

“That’s shady as hell.”

He lays back down on the bed, typing like crazy.

 

When I wake up, this time at 7, to get ready for dumb ol church, Brian’s asleep with his phone stuck to his face.

 

“We talked all night,” He says exhaustedly.

“About what?” I ask.

“History tutoring,”

“Am I missing the subtext?”

 

. . . . .

 

I take the train home alone that Wednesday while Brian is at tutoring. But it gives me plenty of time to think about Temperance.

 

That morning when I had come into class she was resting her head on the desk. When I sat down I asked her if she had stayed up late.

 

“I was watching that movie again…” She mumbles. I wait for her to tell me what ‘That movie’ is. “Mummy…”

“Oh, Mummy is such a good movie. The effects are so cheesy but that's kinda why I love it. Really captures the time period it was made in. It's really cool that they had a female hero, especially for when it was made. I mean, it's really about the time period the mummies. I love that part when the mummy opens it's eyes and there are rubies instead of eyeballs, but the rubies are kind of cartoon animated. That was so cool. I bet there were like a billion factual inaccuracies but man! What a great plot, am I right?”  I must have sounded like a total freak babbling about a movie I saw 2 years ago, but Temperance just blinks.

“You just said exactly 100 words. That was my favorite part as well.” She smiles.

 

. . . . .

 

We go to Hollywood that Friday. The air is warm but light. Brian hooks my arm as we step into the souvenir shop. There’s a big blue convertible parked in the middle of the store, a prize for a raffle.

 

“Sexy car. If you’re Elton John.”

“Hmm.”

I imagine the three of us, Brian, Temperance and I, in the car. I’m the one driving and I’m wearing a scarf like Jacqueline Kennedy. We leave the store soon after. I look for “Mummy”’s star on the on the walk of fame on the way to the train. I know I’ve seen it before. Chemistry is my favorite part of the day now.

 

. . . . .

 

Saturday I go to Blair’s house. We have to finish the oral part of the project, but Blair’s preoccupied when I get there. She’s got a different presentation board set up with pictures of food, charts and graphs, and a list of names.

 

“What’s all this?” I ask, arms folded, trying to act cool and aloof, but really sounding like a dad desperately trying to keep up with his teenage daughter.

“Party planning.” Blair snapped.

“Blair’s throwing a party on the 27th. You’re invited, of course,” Serena adds.

Blair looks at her and squints as if to discourage her, but doesn’t outwardly protest.

“Oh, I’d love to go, is it alright if I bring a plus one?”

“Yeah, who?” Serena asks.

“Brian Kinney, maybe you know him?”

“Kinney- I don’t, but I’m pretty sure my brother does. Yeah, he can come.”

I feel like I’m floating. A high school party thrown by sophomores. Brian will freak.

“It’s a pool party, don’t forget a bikini.” Blair frowns at me. After that, we rehearse the project. I can hardly concentrate.

 

. . . . .

 

“Brian. Brian! Are you even listening to me?” I snap in Brian’s face.

“Huh?”

“I said pool party, the 27th.”  
“That’s nice, Kir.”

“Brian!”

“What!?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fucking fine.”

“Sure, sure…Whatever…”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve got a lot of stuff on my plate right now.”

 

It’s friday and we’re at the diner across the street from the public school. I take out a cigarette to see if he notices. He doesn’t and this angers me.

 

I smoke and squint. My arms are crossed “I know something’s going on, and I don’t like that you’re not telling me what it is.” I mumble.  

 

He’s still scanning the menu. I know he heard me, I know it.

 

“What was that?” He asks a full minute later.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it!”

“Fine!” He slams the menu down. “I sucked Anderson’s dick, okay? Are you happy?” I hear the little old woman behind me wearing her glasses around a chain necklace almost choke on her french toast.

“Jesus Christ! But he’s-!”  
“Yeah.”

“He has a-!”

“Yeah,”

“Oh, Brian!”

“Can I have a smoke please,”

I had him one and he lights it. “I’m 14 and I’ve already ruined 2 marriages.”

“You’re parents were fucked before you were born. And Anderson’s marriage would have been ruined even if you didn’t suck his dick.”

“I think I’m going to do it again,”

“What, ruin a marriage?”

“No, fuck Anderson. I mean really fuck him this time,”

“You really want to lose your virginity to a thirty year old?”

He nods, solemnly.

We put out our cigarettes and the waiter takes our orders.

“So, what’s this about a pool party?” He asks.

 

. . . . .

 

I always though high school parties just looked like that in the movies. But it really does look this way in real life. There are people everywhere. Older people. I feel like a baby in my bikini. Brian finds me some birthday cake vodka. It makes me cringe and it doesn’t really taste like birthday cake, but I like the way it makes my chest warm. I scan the crowd for Blair or Serena. They’re in the back of the yard, in the jacuzzi. I lead Brian over there. In the dark, surrounded by their equally popular friends, they’re even more threatening.

 

“Kira! Hey doll!” Serena hugs me.

“Hey, this is my friend, Brian,”

Brian nods.  

“Kinney, right? Eric’s around here somewhere...” She smiles. “Want to join us…?”

 

We sit, in the pool, listening to them talk slanderously about people I don’t know.  I zone out for a little bit, until Blair starts talking about something I can recognize- Truth or Dare.

  
  


“Come on, it will be fun,” She grins.“Who want’s to go first?”

“Me!” I blurt. I must have been possesed. The real Kira would never have done that.

“Okay,” Somehow, her grin grows wider. “I dare you...to make out with...Serena!” I don’t remember getting a choice let alone picking dare. Serena scoffs. I pretend to be embarrassed. Is this happening? I ask myself. I bet Blair thought she was really getting the best of me by making me kiss another girl. The joke is on her.

 

“Well, okay!” I lean forward, and for just a couple of seconds, our lips touch. It’s like kissing a diamond, or statue of solid gold. I wonder if some of her cool could wear off on me via kiss.

 

Blair shrieks, “Oh my god, you guys actually did it!”

There’s a flash of light but I press it from my mind. “Holy shit.” Dan Humphrey, another sophomore, yells. I hate that he might be getting pleasure from this.

 

Just as quickly as it happens, it’s over. And we’re blushing and giggling and fixing our hair.

 

“Okay, Kira,” Blair turns to me. “Now you pick someone.” I look around the small crowd of people. I can only identify 5 of them.

 

“Alright...um...Dan! I dare you to take off your clothes, jump into the pool, and come back.”

 

“Oh my god, EW!” Blair squeals. He does it, and it’s disgusting. I want to shield my eyes, but I also can’t look away.

 

Everyone exits the jacuzzi. Brian congratulates me on kissing Serena and then goes to find Eric. Blair, Serena, and 3 other girls I can’t name dried off and went to go jump on Blair’s mother’s bed drink more vodka.  I dress up in a mink fur coat and one of the girls drapes a long string of pearls around my neck. She struts around in stilettos and smears red lipstick on her lips which she gets all over the mouth of the bottle. Serena is howling with laughter. Her hair’s messed up, and she grabs a big crystal vase from the dresser.

 

“Serena, no!” Blair shouts. But it’s too late. She’s smashed the vase into a million shiny pieces.

 

“Oops!”

 

I laugh and laugh and laugh and dance and drink and jump and laugh.

 

It occurs to me that it is almost daybreak and I have not seen Brian in 2 hours. Leaning on the wall to steady myself, I stumble down the hallway and to the staircase. I can’t see him anywhere people’s faces are starting to blur together. I can’t really be drunk. Is this what drunk feels like?

 

“You okay?” Someone is holding my elbow. It’s Dan again.

“Yes.” I yank my elbow from his grasp. “Have you seen my friend anywhere?”

“Brian? Nope, I uh- check the bathroom.”

“Thanks.” I rub my eyes tiredly. Surely my eyeliner was smudged long ago.

 

I don’t exactly open the door so much as twist the knob and lazily press my body against it. I almost trip when I open it. Bottles litter the counter tops and the window ledge. Brian is passed out in the bathtub, on top of a blond guy. I recognize Eric, Serena’s younger brother, from my geometry class.

 

“Brian, c’mon, Brian, get up,” I shake him. He begins to wake.

“Fuck off,” He slurs, shoving me twisting his wrists so that I can’t hold on to them.

“Brian, I-” I laugh. “I’m calling a cab,” His eyes are closed. “I’m calling a cab, Brian, wake up,” I repeat. He’s not moving. I turn on the shower. This wakes him up, and Eric too.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Jesus…” Eric whines.

“I- sorry. I’m sorry. Brian, I’m calling a cab. Let’s go.” I repeat for like the millionth time.

“Yeah, yeah.”  

 

I sling my arm around Brian’s shoulder, helping him out as I shout a thank you at Blair who is crushing the potato chips on her coffee table by stepping on them. We wait outside on Blair’s porch for the Taxi to come, Brian lays in my lap.

 

When I wake up Brian is laying on his side next to me, wrapped tightly in blankets. I can remember positioning him that way so he wouldn’t choke on his vomit if he threw up. There is a chain of pearls around my neck that has left round marks in my skin. So that confirms it, last night was a real thing, I didn’t just make it up.  

 

. . . . .

 

"Hey Temperance, good weekend?" I ask when I sit down at our desk on monday morning.

"I saw your photograph," she responds.

"My what?"

She holds up her phone. Its a photo of Serena and I locking lips. Dan must have taken it. I look over to serena now, and she catches my eye but looks away. "Are you two romantically involved?" She asked.

"Me and Serena? No!" It occurs to me then that Temperance  might be less plugged into the social scene than I predicted.

"So you're not...attracted to her...?"

"God no! I mean, because we're friends, not because she's a woman. I mean-!"

"It’s okay. I understand what you mean,” She nods and turns around.

This confuses me. I can’t tell if we’ve ended things poorly or not, but I don’t want to press things and class is starting so I sit.

 

. . . . .

 

 

 

 


	2. Extra Curricular

There are two channels in my mind. The first one Worrying About Brian. Sometimes when we share a bed together, Brian and I, I'll wake up in the night just to get comfortable again and I'll watch him sleep for a moment. It makes me feel creepy and matronly, but I do it anyways, because I really am worried about him. I want him to stop fooling around with Mr. Anderson because it can only go downhill from here. But I can't confront him, because I know that will just push him farther away. I swear if I have to go another week of hearing about him sneaking around and staying after school, then I'll burst.

 

The other channel is rose colored and I wish I could live there. The other channel is all of my tiny daydreams about Temperance. I swear I think about her so much I could have made her up entirely by myself- as if she sprung from my head like Athena.

 

Every time my mind is vacant I switch to one of these channels. I wonder how much longer this will go on until something happens. I've been so occupied with my stupid mind set I haven't been paying as much attention to Serena and Blair as I used to. Serena doesn't look at me anymore. We didn't get together to work on the project after the party so the presentation was a little rough but we got an A-.

 

Regardless, Brian and Eric have become better friends. I wish Brian would just date him instead of Anderson, but of course it doesn't work that way. One weekend we all went to Santa Monica together and Eric brought us a "little present". The present was a clear film canister of marijuana which we smoked together in glass pipe. I wonder what goes on in Eric's life. I wouldn't expect him to smoke weed but I caught a glimpse of horizontal scars on his forearm and it reminded me that I can't ever know everything. We sit in a circle on hot sand. The board walk is out of sight but I can smell the paint fumes. I find it funny that the glass pipe is so phallic. Eric smokes from it first and then shows Brian and then me. I choke when I inhale.

 

"That's okay, that happened to me the first time too." Eric says. It didn't happen to Brian though. Maybe because he's been around smoke more than I have. It makes my thought dry but I laugh it off. We smoke and smoke until the whole film canister is empty.

"Do you feel it?" He asks me. I shake my head, but I don't really know what it's supposed to feel like. I don't notice it at first, but Brian's laughing, a lot.

"Holy shit," He gasps, "That's the fucking funniest thing I've ever seen," He points off way into the distance. It's a man painted silver to look like a statue. I've seen people dressed like that a million times, but this time it is hilarious enough to split my sides in two. Eric laughs and so do I.

"I think your sister hates me," I say to Eric. He keeps laughing.

 

The three of us link arms and walk down the boardwalk. Everything is funny. It hurts to swallow and my eyes are watering but Eric will point to something, anything, that we pass by and it will be so funny. My legs don't feel like they're a part of me anymore and I know that we're walking but it feels like we aren't moving at all. Eric buys fries, a pretzel, a funnel cake, we all share. We buy some popsicles from a man on the corner- Mine turns my lips red and they think this is even funnier than the silver man.

Even though we're wearing our clothes we run into the ocean- Brian picks me up and swings me around and I'm shrieking with laughter.

"You know what I would kill for right now?" Brian asks. Somehow we're laying on the sand again, my clothing is damp and sticking to my skin.

"No, what?"

"Fruit rollups."

"Mmm..."

I want to contribute to the conversation. "What if, you know, like, they started making fruit roll ups in the size n shape of lint rollers," I muse.

"Woah..."

"I'd kill myself for a milk shake."  

Eric’s comment would alarm me more if I weren’t so high.

It's getting cold and the sand plus my wet clothing is irritating my skin. I can feel myself “coming down”. My memories of the day are blending together like someone has smeared them with a wet paint brush. We all hug each other goodbye. After that, Eric starts to sit with us at lunch time.  I wish I knew more about him. If Brian knows anything about those scars on his wrist, he hasn't told me yet.

 

. . . .

 

I’m so inside of my own head that I almost miss the sign up sheet for the math and science club. I really don’t like math. Sometimes in Algebra I feel like that barbie doll that has a string on it’s back and when you pull it she says “Math is hard”. But science…

 

“Are you going to join?” Someone chirps from behind me. Much to my relief, It’s Temperance.

“Oh! Yeah, I was going to think about it.”

“I’d highly recommend joining before its full. The experiments planned for this winter are very compelling.” She hands me a pen. Kira Ives is written right below Temperance Brennan. Brian will ridicule me, but I’d cut of my arm to spend more time with her.

 

God, she is so beautiful...

 

. . . .

 

There’s a fresh face at the table when I sit down at lunch.  

 

“Jenny, this is Kira, the girl I was telling about you. Kira, this is Jenny, Dan Humphrey’s sister.” Eric introduces us. I offer a wave and a smile as I sit down.

 

My mind is reeling back back back to middle school, which ended only months ago, but the time has felt like a century. My only female friend was Carolyn, who hated Brian.

 

“You two are too close,” She’d say to me. “It’s creepy. Start dating or stop being so ‘all over’ him.” I’d try to explain how our friendship worked but she’d never seem to get it. She doesn’t go to our school now and I no longer make an effort to stay in touch.

 

I see Jenny Humphrey as a bundle of possibilities. A platonic gal pal I could read gossip magazines and do makeup with. I’d never really been into gossip magazines or makeup but maybe she is and she could show me the way; guide me towards all the stereotypical female stuff I’d only grazed the surface of.

 

I wonder how long we have to be friends before I can let the lesbian cat out of the bag. Does she know about Brian? Does she know about Eric? That last question is definitely an uncertainty, I don’t even know if Eric is gay. I know he’s not straight though- Brian detests straight people.

 

“So is anyone signing up for any clubs?” I ask the table.

“The Fashion and Design Society, for sure.” Jenny said. “French club too, probably.”

“Speech and Debate.” Eric adds.

“Newspaper.” Brian has a red apple in one hand, but he isn’t eating it. “Why?”

“Oh, I signed up for Math and Science.”  
“So you can die a virgin?” Brian smirks. I curl my upper lip. I wish he wouldn’t embarrass me in front of my possible future best friend.

“I’m going to sign up for Film Society too though. I think they collaborate with Fashion and Design.” I say to Jenny.

“Yeah, I’m just excited because my boyfriend’s going to do it with me,” Jenny glisters.

Brian, now eating his apple, nearly chokes, but regains himself. “Well, Jenny, that’s lovely.”

 

Jenny Humphrey is a confirmed heterosexual. Who could have imagined me as the future best friend of a female heterosexual.

"What's your boyfriend's name?" I ask.

“Asher Hornsby. Maybe you know him?”

Eric and Brian exchange glances, but Jenny doesn’t notice so I pretend not to.

“I don’t, but I’d love to meet him sometime.”

“Maybe we could go on a double date. With you and Brian.”

Now Brian really chokes. Eric slaps him on the back. “Oh, sweet heart-” he starts.

“Brian and I aren’t dating. We’re just good friends.” I tell her quickly before he can.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I just assumed-” She awkwardly adjusts her bangs.

“Don’t worry about it! You’re not the only one who’s thought that.”

 

I decide my first act as being best friends with Jenny Humphrey will be to strengthen her nonexistent gaydar.

 

. . . .

 

Math and science club actually works out well with my schedule, as it’s on a wednesday, when Brian is also at “history tutoring”.

 

“Kira! I’m so glad that you could make it,” Temperance greets me. Oh jesus, she’s wearing a lab coat, with the plastic glasses on top of her head. It’s so attractive I could melt. If seeing Blair and Serena out of their uniforms on the weekend was a privilege, then this is too holy for words.

 

Our chemistry teacher is there and one of the math teachers too. Temperance and I are the only underclassmen. The experiment that day was related to litmus tests and charting results. It feels weird doing work like this that isn’t for a grade. I could barely keep up, but she helped me and that made it worth it.

 

My mother couldn't pick me up until 40 minutes after the club meeting had finished, so I asked Temperance if she wanted to walk to the coffee shop with me. It’s not raining but I wear my rain coat anyways, and she holds an umbrella over us.

 

“Are you going to winter formal?” I ask her while we wait for our drinks.

“I usually do not participate in school related functions, but my father encourages me to take part in anything related to the typical high school experience, so perhaps.”

I nod. “I’ve never been to a school dance before, but I don’t know, could be fun. Would you ever go to a football game?”

“Oh, no. I find male dominated contact sports barbaric.”

“Thank you! I could never sit through a whole game. I mean, it’s just an aggressive game of catch.”

She smiles. We’re brought our drinks.

“Hey, since we won’t be seeing each other at any football games soon-” Is my heart visibly palpitating? It feels like it is. “Would you- would you um, ever like to see a movie together sometime, for fun?” I ask, stumbling over my words.

“Yes!” She answers quickly, to my relief. “We should exchange phone numbers.” She grabs a napkin, scrawls her number down with a pen from her backpack, and hands it to me. I enclose it in my fist, it feels like it’s glowing.

 

. . . .

 

Brian isn’t there to take the train with me the next couple of days. When I ask him where he’s been, he snaps back, “Where do you think?”

 

. . . .

 

“Can I ask you a favor?” Jenny grips my sleeve and pulls me aside in the hallway.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Can I borrow a tampon? Sorry, it’s super embarrassing, but-”  

“Oh, no of course!”

“Thanks. I got my period for the first time last month and I keep forgetting.”

 

This has never happened to me before. Carolyn was always very private about these kinds of things, and Brian...These situations don’t arise when your closest friend lacks the ability to menstruate.

 

I feel enhanced by the power of female friendship. I hand her one like I’m handing her a sword for battle and she stashes it away in her backpack.

 

“I owe you one.”

 

. . . .

 

“What do you think of Jenny?” Brian asks me on the train ride home. We’re the only ones sitting on this car.

“I like her. Why is she sitting with us though? Did her old friends like, excommunicate her or something?”

“Something like that. Maybe they didn’t want to be the ones to tell her that her boyfriend is a fag.”

“Brian!”

“Sorry. A poof.”

“Brian, are you kidding me?”

“A fruit? A pansy?”

“Stop it.”

“When are you going to tell her you’re one too?”

“Oh for fuck’s-When are you going to tell her that you’re one? How about Eric?”

“Eric knows.”

“And he’s-?”

“He’s gay, Kira, you can say it you know.”

“Does Serena know?”

“Fuck no. And you better keep those pretty lips shut.”

“Don’t patronize me.” I huff. “Does he know about me?”

“I thought you could be the one to tell him.”

“You know at public schools they have a club called ‘gay/straight alliance’?”

“They want us to be friends with the straights now?”

“I’m just saying like, wouldn’t that make it easier to assemble a map of who’s what?”

“I’m sure you’d have a great time assembling that map from the closet.”

 

I stop responding. I don’t know why he’s being so aggressive but my full attention is now on the hangnail on my ring finger.  

 

“She’ll still be your friend even if you’re gay, Kira.” He says in a lower voice.

“That isn’t what I’m worried about.” That’s only kind of a lie. And it reminds me-

“Would they still be your friends if they knew who you were fucking?”

“Excuse me?” He laughs. That’s the last straw.

“I mean, it’s fucked up, Brian, and I’m getting sick of covering your tracks. I hate it when my mom asks me ‘oh, where is Brian, Kira?’ and I have to stop myself from saying- ‘he’s got his teacher’s cock in his mouth, mom!’”

“I never asked you to lie for me. Where is this coming from? Is this what I get for trying to include you in my romantic life?”

“Romantic life? Can you hear yourself right now? What you’re- what you have, with a fucking 30 year old is not romantic. It’s fucked up. And it disgusts me that you would willingly let someone take advantage of you like that.” I can’t believe how quickly the words are spilling from my lips- I’m tripping over the syllables and my mind is moving too fast for my mouth, my thoughts sped up by anger.   

“I can’t believe after 14 years of fighting it you’ve succumed to the catholic morals everyone’s been throwing at you. What a disappointment.”

“This has nothing to do with being Catholic you fuck!”

“So you admit it, you’re catholic.”

“Enough. Don’t try to change the subject. Stop seeing him or I’ll stop seeing you, and I mean it.”

Brian doesn't say anything after that. The train stops and the doors open, and he gets off. We're two stops away from our neighborhood so he'll have to take a taxi. What an idiot.

 

I’m so livid from our conversation that even though I’m sitting still, it feels like I’m rocking back and forth. An angry tear slides down my cheek and it feels misplaced.

I’m one stop away from home, and already guilt is starting to take the place of the rage. Maybe I was wrong to yell at him like that. Yeah, I was wrong. I decide. I’m such a pushover. I don’t know what’s going on at his house, and there’s no doubt that’s playing a part in this relationship...

 

My thoughts scatter when I reach my stop.

 

. . . .

 

And they don’t clutter my mind when I go to the movies with Temperance that weekend. We watch a documentary and I can hardly concentrate. I look over to her every few moments, the blue from the screen tinting her features. I move myself a couple inches closer to her so I am soon leaning completely on her arm rest. She tilts her head towards me and even though this is the smallest gesture, this miniscule physical closeness feels so intimate.

 

Though we don’t have time for much discussion after the movie ends, we make a promise to do it again. She hugs me before I leave, and it goes on just a little too long, which only fuels my speculation that she too likes me in a romantic way. I hold on to the hug it as I get into the car, as I ride home, as I lay down onto the bed, and as I stare blankly at the ceiling I play back the movie and feel the hug over and over and over again in my memory.

 

. . . .

 

Brian isn’t at church that Sunday. This wouldn’t have worried me if it wasn’t for our fight on thursday. It’s been awhile since I’ve been over to his house, but it used to be just like what my house is to him now. When no one opens the door after I’ve been there for more that 20 minutes, I push it open.

 

“Hello?” I ask, like a person in a horror movie who stupidly expects whatevers about to kill them to respond to a casual greeting. There’s soft music coming from somewhere. I follow it to the kitchen in the back of the house.

 

Brian’s mother, Joan, sits in one of the wooden kitchen chairs, smoking next to the window. I’d seen her only a few hours ago at church, and she’s still wearing her big church hat, but it was like she had taken her face off to reveal a second she only wore at home. Even though the window was open the kitchen was full of smoke.

 

“Ms. Kinney!” I cough.

“Hello child, is there something I can help you with?”

“Is Brian home?”

“He’s upstairs. He wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

“Oh, okay cool, I just have some homework for him.”

“Tell your mother I say hello. We really ought to get together sometime.” She takes a long drag. She says this to me each time I see her and they haven't gotten together in years.

“Right! Of course…” I’m unsure of how to end this conversation. I settle for slowly backing out of the kitchen while she keeps staring out the window at nothing.

 

I clamor up the stairs to Brian’s room. The house has changed a lot since the last time I was there. Not physically, but it’s definitely a different house. Clair, Brian’s older sister, has her bedroom door shut just like he does. Jack and Joan’s bedroom door is open, and I’m too afraid even glance at it.

 

Brian is sitting in the dark when I open the door, smoking at the window, just like his mother. I hate it. He turns to look at me but says nothing- He’s not angry, but there is no hint of apology in his demeanor.

 

“What do you want?”  
“Brian, I’m sorry. I’m not taking back anything I said, because it...it is fucked up, but you can do anything you want. I’m not going to try to control you.”

 

His expression is still hard, but it’s softening around the edges.

 

“It’s not going to last forever. I’ll try not to talk about it anymore if it upsets you.”

“Is Jenny’s boyfriend really gay?”

“No he’s fake gay. He likes dick but only ironically.”

 

I laugh then sit down, and he offers me a cigarette.

 

. . . .     

 

“Did Eric tell you yet?” Jenny asks, sliding her tray onto the lunch table.

“Tell us what?” I ask.

“I found my dress for winter formal!”

“Nice! Do you have photos of it?”

Jenny flips through a couple photos on her phone. The dress isn’t my style, but I say “ooh,” and “it’s beautiful,” regardless.

“Have you found a date yet?” She asks me.

“Oh, I thought I would just go with Brian.” She looked to him and he nodded.

“But I thought you two weren’t dating?”

Brian and I exchange glances and shrug in unison.

“We’re just going as friends.”

“Well, that’s...fun.” She finally sits down and Eric joins us.

“Eric, have you found a date for winter formal yet?” Jenny asks him.

“Ha! No.”

“But you are going, right?”

“My sister’s going, so yeah.”

“God, I’m probably going to end up wearing my graduation dress from 8th grade.” I murmur.

“Don’t say that! We could all go shopping together!” Jenny suggests.

“Pass.” Brian interjects.

“No, really, it could be fun! This weekend, we could go to Space 15 Twenty. You could go to the record shop if that’s more fun. And my brother could drive. This is perfect!”

“I’m free on saturday.” I offer.

“Me too.” Eric agrees.

“Yeah, me too.”

“So meet at my house?”

 

. . . .

 

Jenny’s house is in a studio apartment in downtown LA. It’s a rich house, but rich in a way that’s different from Blair or Serena. Brian and I arrive before Eric does. Jenny’s dad is invasive, asking too many questions. I let Brian answer them. I see a beautiful blonde woman in photographs with Jenny and Dan, but she’s nowhere around the house. Maybe she works on saturdays?

 

Dan is in pajamas typing at a laptop in the living room, and doesn’t look up when we enter. I give him a cold look anyways. I know it was him who sent around that fucking photo. But I’ll forgive him. For now.

 

It’s clear he’s only been driving for a few months. I could really fly through the windshield at any moment, he’s going so fast. Eric grips my thigh as a reflex when we turn a corner and Brian’s knuckles are white on the grip handle.

“Dan! Stop it!” Jenny shrieks from the front seat.

“Stop what? Stop driving?”

“Stop trying to kill me!” Her voice squeaks endearingly.

After that he drives at 20 miles an hour.

 

We get to Space 15 Twenty and split up shortly after. Brian and Eric and Dan go to Amoeba, the record store, while Jenny and I run from shop to shop to find a perfect dress. This is what I had been dreaming about since childhood, shopping with a friend and actually enjoying it. I finally pick a dress- it’s blue and white striped and I plan on wearing my hair up. Jenny approves.

 

We meet up for lunch and afterwards while Dan is pulling the car around, the four of us cram into the photobooth. The camera flashes four times and I hold the photo by the edges while everyone crowds around to peer at it.

 

“Yuck, cut this one out. My nose looks huge.” Jenny points to the last photo.

“What? That’s the best one!” Eric protests.

“Well I look the hottest in that one.” Brian point to the third.

“That’s because everyone’s making a face but you.”

“Whatever.”

“Brian and I got something at the flea market next door.” Eric mentions.  

“Really? Everything there is so weird!”

“Cool weird. What’d you buy?” I ask.

Eric opens his bag and reveals a box the size of game board wrapped in brown packaging.

“What is it?”

“Ouija board.” He replies. I gasp.

“What? What’s the big deal?” Jenny asks

“I begged him not to buy that crap.” Brian rolls his eyes.

“I don’t get it. Isn’t all that stuff made up?” Jenny continues.  

“That’s what I said.”

“How would you know? None of you have never even tried it, right?” I say. The group shakes their heads.

“We can try it out after winter formal. Just for fun.” Eric suggests.

“Just for fun.” Jenny repeats.

“Just for fun.” I confirm.

 

. . . .

 

Winter formal is the most glamourous catholic school can ever be. Brian buys me a yellow corsage for friendship, and while it doesn’t look good on my skin tone, it matches the dress nicely. I get to meet Asher, Jenny’s boyfriend. He’s got brown bangs in his eyes and straight teeth. Very vanilla, very Jenny. He and Eric exchange glances all through dinner and its putting me on edge.

 

And Temperance is there! She looks like so unbelievably gorgeous I can’t take my eyes off of her the entire time. We dance together almost the whole night- even after my feet are sore from the shoes I borrowed from Claire, which are pretty but too big. I spin her around in circles and she’s got two left feet but she spins me too and I can’t pry myself away from her until the slow song starts playing.

 

While I’m slow dancing with Brian (yuck) I look over to Jenny, and I see her resting her face on Asher’s chest with her eyes closed, and at the very same time he’s looking Eric, slow dancing with some girl from calculous, and it really does make me sad. Because Jenny really is completely oblivious. And I look over to Temperance, dancing with some other guy, and that makes me even sadder. I know she doesn’t like him, I know it, but I don’t like seeing it nonetheless.

 

. . . .

 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jenny asks me. We’re back at my house, she’s spending the night there after the dance. We’re in the bathroom and while I’m admiring the new blisters on my feet she’s rubbing off her makeup.

“Duh.”

“I think I’m going to give my flower to Asher.”

“Ew, your ‘flower’? Jenny, what year is this.”

“Okay, my virginity.”

“Virginity is an overrated concept generated by a society designed to oppress women.”

“Whatever! I think I’m going to have sex with him.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

I gulp.

“How far have you gone?”

“Third base. Well, he’s gotten to third base.” She giggles.

What’s third base? I can’t remember. Did he touch her boob or eat her vagina? Or did she blow him? I don’t even want to ask.

“Isn’t it kinda early?”

“I thought virginity was a made up concept, what’s the big deal of waiting to loose it if it doesn’t exist?”

“No, I mean like, do you think you’re ready?”

“Totally. I-I really love him,” She stops mid-lipstick wipe, her eyes wide and glassy. Woah.

“Wow. Good for you! I mean, I’ve never even had an orgasm.” I hastily try to transition the conversation to get my mind off Asher and the way he was looking at Eric.

“Wanna know another secret?” She asks.

“Sure.”

“Neither have I.”

I almost say ‘Maybe Asher can help you with that!’ But I remember why I can’t. Why oh why couldn’t Jenny have just fallen for a straight guy?

 

That night while she lays asleep on the cot next to me, I debate telling Brian about her plans to have sex with Asher. I want to talk about it to someone who knows the whole situation, and I can’t tell Eric because I hate being the bearer of bad news, and I sure wouldn’t feel good if I knew if some guy was planning on having sex with Temperance. Plus, I don’t want to betray the sacred bond of female trust...the hoe code...either. So now this information is just going to rattle around inside of me. And in the back of my mind I’ll have the horrible image of a gay man trying to sleep with a woman, and God, it just stresses me out.

 

It stresses me out so bad I get a nosebleed and have to get up to go to the bathroom and drink some water. When I come back, I look at the film strip at the booth at Space 15 Twenty, laying on my desk, illuminated by the moonlight. I’m betraying the hoe code just by not telling Jenny her boyfriend is gay, aren’t I? I don’t know how long this friendship between the four of us is going to last. Hopefully it’s a while.

 

. . . .


	3. Mystifying Oracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian, Jenny, Kira, and Eric use the spirit board one December evening, and instead of answers all they get is more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly do not know what I was thinking when I was writing this. Well, it was based on personal experience. Anyways, don't fuck with Ouija for real.

“ _And since you pick up, I know he’s not around…_ ”

\- Drake; _Marvin’s Room_

 

Brian’s disgusting relatives are visiting that winter break so he spends more time at my house that usual, if that’s even possible. I get new hair bobbles and a scratchy sweater for christmas, among a few other things. Brian gets new church shoes. My gift to him is a playgirl I snatched from a news stand. I know it’s old fashioned and that those magazines are for straight girls, but I don’t know how to buy a porn subscription online without my parents finding it. I give Jenny a new pin cushion. Eric was probably the hardest to shop for- I got him a leather journal and some pens, which he seemed to really like.

 

We only met twice that winter, the four of us, once to exchange gifts and the second for Ouija. We did it at Brian’s house, because his attic was creepier and Clair ditched watching us while Brian’s relatives went to the country club, so we were home alone. The attic had 3 or four boxes, a picture of Brian as a baby in an ugly frame lined little blue balloons, and a picture of Claire in a soccer uniform. Other than that, it was dusty and empty. The little window was the only light and the glass was cracked. We waited until 6 o'clock, then I lit some candles and Eric laid the board on the ground.   

 

Jenny sat with her knees to her chest. “Are you guys really going through with this?”

“No, _we’re_ going through with this. As a group.” Brian said, holding the magnifying center of the planchette to his eye.

“He’s right,” Eric grabbed the planchette from Eric and placed it at the top of the board. “Can we start?”

We all sit criss cross, each with one finger on the planchette.

“Do we need to do a chant or something?” Jenny asks.

“No, just move it around the board in a circle a couple of times.” Eric directs. We do as he says. The house is still. There is no sound, not even the refrigerator downstairs, or the wind, or Jenny shifting her weight on the creaky floorboards.  

“ _Guys-I-I-I think_ -” Brian puts his free hand on his chest and rolls his eyes back in his head.

“Oh my god, _oh my god_ ,” Jenny gasps.

“Brian, stop that.” I say.

“Brian? Who’s Brian?” He jokes.

“Be serious! What if someone really died here and they think you’re making fun of them?”

Eric stops moving the planchette and we stop too, resting it in the center.

“Okay...he says quietly. Is anybody there?”

The planchette moves slowly to the picture of the round sun with a creepy grin.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Jenny breaths.

“Brian, are you moving it?” I ask.

“No!”

A shiver of adrenaline runs through me. Is it really moving by itself?

“Are you dead?” Eric asks the board. The planchette stays put. “Okay...what do I ask it know?” He whispers.

“Ask it if its a boy or a girl.” I suggest.

“Are you male or female?” He asks. The planchette moves to the half moon with the word ‘No’.

“No?” Jenny squints at the board.

“You’re right, it was wrong of us to assume the presence has a gender.”

“Brian, shut up.” I plead. “Ask it about someone we know."

”How many times had Ms. Millins had sex?” Brian asks.

“Ew!” Jenny squeals. The planchette moves to the number 7. “Is that legit?” She asks.

“It wasn’t a very good question. Let’s ask it something like, 'how did you die?'” Eric suggests. He spells out the letters as the planchette moves.

“T-R-U-S-T. Trust?”  
“I think it was trying to spell ‘rust’” Brian grins.

“Brian, are you the one moving it?”

“I’m not! Seriously, Kira, I’m not.”

“Guys, it’s still moving- S-E-C-R-E-T...B-A-D-F-R-I-E-N-D-S.”

“Woah. He was murdered by his friends?” I wonder out loud.

“T-E-L-L-T-H-E-T-R-U-T-H.” Eric continues spelling. “Who are you talking too? Who needs to tell the truth?”

This is the longest Brian has gone without making a joke so far.

“A-S-H-” Eric reads. I know what it’s going to spell.

“Brian! _STOP MOVING IT._ ”

“I am not moving it! Look!” He lifts his finger and the planchette is still going. Jenny shivers.

“-H-” Eric repeats.

“Well, _then who’s moving it_?” I shriek. We look to each other, and all at once we take our finger off the board and stand up, and the planchette keeps moving. Jenny screams so loud it splits my ears.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a cross-!” Brian continues to back away from the board, nearly stumbling on a box.

The last two letters are _ER_. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Did Jenny see that? I hear a thump and she’s in a heap on the ground to my left.

“ _Someone fucking do something_!” Eric shouts.

“Brian, there’s salt in my backpack!” I look back to the board, it’s on the number 10 and it’s moving down the number line. Brian dumps the contents of my backpack on the ground and the blue cylinder of salt rolls onto the floor. Eric picks it up and pours it around the board, it gets to number 4 and it slows down. It stops at number three. I didn’t notice it before but I’m hyperventilating, gasping for breath. So is Brian, and Eric, and Jenny- Jenny is still in a heap on the floor.

The planchette rests on goodbye.

“...Fucking close that shit.” Brian barks. “We have to burn it.”

Eric fumbles to get the board back in its wooden box. I wipe my clammy hand on my forehead and gather up my backpack. The salt circle remains. I help  Brian get Jenny down the stairs.

We lay her down on the couch in the living room. Brian starts up the fireplace, and Eric throws the box inside, planchette and all. It has a terrible smell, and this rouses Jenny.

“What happened?” She asks, sitting up.

“Oh, someone go get her some water,” I say to the Eric and Brian. They both go into the kitchen to grab a glass.

“Jenny, are you okay? You passed out. Do you remember what the Ouija board was spelling?”

“I’m fine, just groggy. And yeah, it was spelling ‘Tell the truth’. Then I got scared. Right?”

I freeze for a moment. “Yeah, right. You passed out and then we closed the board. I was scared too so I made Eric burn it.”

“The board was probably magnetized.” Eric says as he hands Jenny the glass of water. “The words it was spelling had almost nothing to do with what we were asking.”

“Oh.” Jenny takes a sip. The fire is getting smaller now. “Is Claire home yet?”

 

. . . .

 

The color red is what I see when I close my eyes. I wake up that night at 3 AM gasping for air with the sheets clung to my skin in cold sweat. There is blood running from my nose onto my lips and chest and hands and I am so stricken with terror I can barely move. The nightmare was so shattering the feeling of death still clings to me, even though I’m wide awake.  

 

The soft ring of my cell phone sends another jolt of fear through me, and I smear blood handprints all over my sheets as I look for it.

  
“Hello?” I choke the word.

“Kira!” It’s Brian, but his voice sounds weird.

“Holy...Brian, are you...Brian? Ohmygod...”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so.” I am starting to calm down. Reality is coming back to me. My bedroom is starting to feel like by bedroom again, and not the setting of my nightmare.

“Are you? Oh god, Brian, I had the worst dream.”

“Same. Did you-”

“Do you get a nosebleed?” I interrupt.

“Yes. What was the dream about?”

“The board.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think Jenny and Eric-?”

“We should call them.”  
“I’ll call Jenny if you call Eric.”

“Deal.”

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

We hang up at the same time and I squint at the brightness of my phone screen while I look for Jenny’s contact.

I ring twice but she doesn’t pick up. Oh god, if she had a nightmare it was probably even worse for her that us.

I call back Brian and he does pick up.

“So?” I ask.

“Him too.”

“Holy fucking mother of God-”

“Nosebleed and everything.”

“Do you remember what happened in the dream?” I’m feel scared as those words leave my lips.

“Not as much now, no, why? Do you?”

“...Not anymore, not really. Just pieces of it. Sort of.”

“God, Kir, that is the most fucked up thing to ever happen to me.”

“Same.”

“Are your parents home?”

“Yeah, are yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we’re safe. For now.”

“I’m going downstairs and sleeping on the couch.”

“Call me tomorrow.”

He hangs up. Brian never says goodbye over the phone. And I usually don’t say ‘sorry’ and I definitely don’t say ‘I love you’. I scoop up my dirty sheets and stumble down the stairs. My mom won’t be happy if she finds me like this.

 

. . . .

 

I watch tv, news reports, until 6 AM, when the sun is coming up, and then I throw my sheets into the washing machine. I take a shower with the door open. At six thirty I put a hat over my wet hair and write a note and stick it to the front door- “Going to the corner store for cereal. Back in a few.” Then I throw some rocks at Brian’s window. He meets me on the front porch in a matter of minutes.

 

“What did Eric say to you when you called him?”

“That the same thing happened to him. That’s it. What about Jenny? I forgot to ask.”

“She never picked up.”

“Fuck! Your tried more than once, right?”

“Yes! I called twice and nothing!”

“You don’t think she could be…”

I don’t let him finish. “No. She couldn’t be. Maybe her brother heard her screaming in her sleep and he woke her up.”

“I wasn’t screaming in my sleep.”

“Neither was I. Was Eric?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are we sure its the same dream?”

“Why the fuck else would we all wake up at 3 AM with nose bleeds?”

“Where did you and Eric buy the board?”

“The fuckin flea market next to Spac-”

“No, I know, but like who?”

“A woman, she was like 35, and...she looked like a normal fucking person to me.”

“What else was she selling?”

“Vegetables.”

“What?”

“Yeah!”

“Are we possessed?”

“I should fucking hope not!”

 

We walk around the neighborhood in silence after that, I listen to the sound of my boots shuffling on the pavement.

 

I ask to be blessed with holy water the next weekend in Church.

 

. . . .

 

I haven’t been sleeping well since. Our first day back we sit at our table in silence. No ones saying anything about the Dream, or the fact that we all had the exact same dream.

 

“You know um- I looked up what it means when the numbers start counting down.” Eric starts

“Stop. Let’s not talk about it.” I interrupt.

“Numbers counting down?” Jenny asks.

“After you passed out, the planchette was moving to random numbers.” Brain fibs. “Right as we were closing it. It doesn’t mean anything, right Eric?”

“Yeah.” Eric confirms.

“Okay, well, I actually have something to do in a couple minutes, Ms. Quinn wants to talk to me about some Design club stuff. So see you guys later, I guess.” Jenny slides her lunch tray off the table and throws it away.

I stare blankly at the cream colored table. When I look up, Eric is rubbing his temples and cringing.

“Holy shit, Eric, are you okay?” I put a hand on his back.

“You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I’m fine. This Ouija stuff...was just a big mistake okay, and I’m really sorry to drag you three into it. Especially Jenny.” He exhales and swallows hard. “I had sex with Asher after the dance in December.”

“Oh, _God,_ ” Brian pinched the bridge between his nose. “Why _in the fuck_ would you _do that_?”  

“Asher and I had been messing around before he and Jenny were dating! Before I was even out of treatment...I want to apologize to her and explain but I have no idea how to and Asher doesn’t want to do anything- He’s not out of the closet to anyone, and he’ll kill me if I told anyone about us, but I can’t go on like this. When I woke up from the nightmare and the only thing I could remember was the number 105,141,425 and I am really scared.”

“We’re scared too! This is getting bizarre. What was that number again?” I pull out an index card and a mechanical pencil.

“105,141,425.” I write the number down and Brian looks at it over my shoulder.”Write the numbers 1 through 26 with the corresponding letters.” He tells me, and I do. Then I start to translate.

 

“10 is J.” I feel a shiver on my spine. “5 is E, 14 is N…” My hands are shaking. I don’t even have to say that 25 is Y. Eric runs from the table, and Brian runs his hands through his hair.

“Fuck me…” He says. “I mean, really, _fuck me._ ”

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Brian.” I say, my voice is wavering. “Tomorrow, I’m going to sit down with Jenny and have a little talk about her boyfriend. I’m going to break it to her very, very gently. And then you’re going to take Eric back to the flea market, and find that fucking lady again. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“ _Okay_.”

I crumple the paper up.

"But you have to stop too." 

"Stop what?" 

"Stop fucking someone you shouldn't be fucking." 

"I thou-"

"It ends now. Or you'll end up in Eric's situation." 

"Fine. I'll call it off today." 

I throw the paper away and splash some water on my hot face in the bathroom. 

 

 

 


End file.
